Carrie and I have blazed through these past hundred days with carefree confidence. Empowered by the pureness of what we share we’ve swatted away the few pests in our paths. Moreover, warmed by well-wishers, we’ve continued our journey…

The when and where came easy. August 1st marks three years to the day from our first date (if Carrie’s counting). How could we not?
Her condo made sense. The late tip-off after Shabbos made sense. Keeping it small? No children or brothers or mothers or one hundred and one year-old aunts? A rough call, but the right call for us. The whole thing will be short, to the point, and moving in One Direction.

Haircut? Check.
Manicure? Check
Shoes shined? (Still pending).

Spoke to Bobby yesterday. And Stuart. To remind them. Lifelong friends since the 50’s, why they’re ushers in all my weddings. I called Linda too, who we’ll see down in Florida. And our rabbi? I phoned him last week.

“B,” he said, “I’ve got some notes, and I’m ready.”
“Listen,” I reminded, “You’re a great speaker and all, but we have to be in Pittsburgh by Sunday night.”

Ready we are, by the way. Carrie and I. Right on course.

I won’t see her on Saturday. You’re not supposed to see the bride the day of the wedding … I seem to remember that. So I’ll pack up tonight and evaporate tomorrow. And anticipate.